


Clippings

by pennysparrow



Series: Flower Shop AU [11]
Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Comic-Con, DC Comics References, Dogs, Drinking, F/F, Fluff, Gen, Let Crutchie Say Fuck 2k18, M/M, Mild Language, Modern Era, Musicals, Sibling Bonding, but you don't need to know dc to get them, i'm jumping on that tag train cause it's a great tag and he should be allowed to say it, krypto the therapy dog, literally this is all just fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-06-09 15:38:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 14,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15270690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pennysparrow/pseuds/pennysparrow
Summary: A collection of one-shot scenes and drabbles set in the same modern au as my flower shop au. Each chapter is a different short fic. You don't need to have read the rest of the au.Chapter 15 added 9/12/18





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Get it, Clippings? Like Newspaper clippings? Because they're newsies and these are short fics?

“CRUTCHIE MORRIS I SWEAR ON MY HARRY POTTER COLLECTION.”

Crutchie flinched as he heard Albert storm into their apartment. “Well good evening to you too, Al,” Jack deadpanned from where he was likely still standing by the door.

In his bedroom Crutchie grasped the biography he was reading tighter and prepared to defend himself. It had some weight to it and he was hoping that the picture of Robin Williams on the front might slow Albert down. His door swung open and Crutchie raised the book as he took in Albert in his khaki shorts, running shoes, and Zildjian t-shirt. The redhead did not look pleased. 

“Can I help you?” Crutchie asked innocently. He shifted so that he was sitting on his bed instead of laying on his stomach, still holding his book at the ready. 

“You tell me,” Albert said as he tossed his baseball cap at Crutchie. 

“I can tell you that _Mork and Mindy_ started because of Robin Williams’s popularity as a one-off guest on _Happy Days_ ,” Crutchie smiled. He knew where this conversation was going, he just liked pushing Al’s buttons. 

It was working as the other boy grumbled and stomped into the room, careful to avoid the piles of books. He let himself fall backwards onto the bed next to Crutchie. “They found your fucking YouTube channel,” Albert grumbled as he raked his hands down his face. 

“I’m so surprised that out of my millions of subscribers one of them would be one of your fifty high schoolers. What are the odds?” Crutchie raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. Albert just cursed some more. 

“Ya just had ta put videos of the fucking band up,” Albert threw his hands up in distress. Though from his position on the bed they were really more straight out in front of him. It had the same effect, Crutchie mused. He was letting Albert rant himself out some. “And of course it’s the week before band camp, cause of course the universe fucking hates me. Do you know what kind of hell band camp is normally? Do you know what this is going to do?”

Crutchie smirked, he knew that what he was going to say next was asking for trouble on a good day and that today was apparently not a good day for Albert. He couldn’t help himself though, it was _right there_. 

“This one time, at band camp...”

Albert groaned, rolling over and bringing his knees up to his chest. “I fucking hate you. You’re the fucking worse. Fuck off Charles Fucking Morris.” 

“That’s not my middle name. I’m quite the opposite actually. As are you so I don’t see how you could forget,” Crutchie said lightly. Albert had his arms over his eyes, so he couldn’t see exactly how amused Crutchie was by this whole thing. Which was probably what was preventing Albert from pushing Crutchie off the bed right now. 

Jack decided to poke his head in, the sounds of cursing and distress bringing out the mother hen in him. “Uh, you good?” He asked and Crutchie snorted, just cause Jack could be a mother hen didn’t mean he was any good at it. 

“Peachy-keen, Jackie bean,” Crutchie told his brother who blinked and stared pointedly at Albert. 

“I’m ruined. Ruined. I’ll never be able ta work in the city again. I’ll have ta go back to fucking Long Island. Long Island!” Albert was moaning. 

“You need to cut that shit out, we get enough of the dramatics from Racer. Fix it, Crutch. Before we have a Tony on our hands.” With that Jack beat a hasty retreat back to the couch where he had been losing Assassin’s Creed. 

“The human kind or the award kind? Cause I wouldn’t mind the award kind, might spruce the place up a bit!” Crutchie called to his back. 

“You can’t see it but I’m flipping you off!” 

“So am I!” Albert chimed in. Crutchie glanced down and sure enough Albert had both his arms in the air again with his middle fingers directed at Crutchie’s glow-in-the-dark star covered ceiling. 

With a sigh Crutchie laid down next to Albert, finally setting his book down on the floor. “Alright, what happened?” 

“The trumpet section found videos of our cover band and when I asked if anybody had any questions during practice tonight that little shit Nate asked why I look constipated when playing Take On Me,” Albert scowled. Crutchie tried, he really did, but he just couldn’t help it. He burst out laughing. “S’not funny! Now I’ve got fifty high schoolers, who I’m supposed to be in charge of mind you, who think I’m a loser cause my friends and I play 80s songs in dive bars on weekends.” 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Crutchie tried to catch his breath, having to bite his lip to keep from starting to laugh again. “Look Al, you teach high school cause you’re too sarcastic to teach the younger kids and too broke to go for a master right now. And you love being a dick with them. So put those skills to work and learn to deal with it because I am not taking those videos down.” 

Albert turned his head to glare at him. “You really want me to deal with this shit every day, eight hours a day, for the next two weeks?” 

“We both know it’s six hours, you complained about it being too short enough last summer when you started.” 

“The point stands.”

“Albert, you’re their teacher, I’m sure you’ll figure out some way to turn it against them. Besides, you’re the cool, young band director who plays in bars with his friends on the weekend. And gets paid. And can be drunk while he does it. I think they find that way more interesting than the dumb faces you make,” Crutchie assured him. 

Albert considered it before nodding slowly. “Some of them did kinda look at me like I was a rock star. But those were mostly freshmen.” 

They lapsed into silence as Albert reanalyzed the situation and Crutchie considered how old they all were, what with Albert having a pension plan for a year now and all.

“Plus,” Albert spoke up after a couple minutes. “The kid’s a total twerp. I can always make him do push-ups cause I’m the Adult.” 

“That’s the spirit!” Crutchie wondered why exactly anyone decided it was a good idea to give Albert a pension plan. Or put him in charge of children when he so clearly was one. 


	2. Chapter 2

Race tugged at his collar, no matter how many of these things he went to they still made him uncomfortable. He hadn’t been poor growing up, not like Spot or Jack before Medda found them, but a single one of these ladies’ earrings could pay off half his student loans and that freaked him out. 

Still, part of the job was ensuring that families like his, with five kids of varying ages and parents who worked as teachers and firefighters and not stock brokers, and kids like Spot and Jack, who had only come in his office because their social worker had brought him, didn’t have to pay an arm and a leg for their new arm or leg. Which meant getting New York’s high society to donate to their general fund or agree to sponsor one of the kids. Which meant going to these stupid galas and being all charming and convincing them in person. Which meant wearing the monkey suit. Which meant being choked by his tie for the next few hours. But Finch was right, he wasn’t actually being choked he was just nervous and it manifested itself that way. Or something. Finch put his psych degree to good use when drunk; Race was just always too drunk to follow along. 

He took a sip from the glass of champagne he’d been working on for the past hour. As a rule, he only ever had the one, so not to look out of place and still keep his mind clear to actually work. With one last tug at his collar Race steeled his nerves and slipped on his best smile, one he’d picked up from watching Crutchie talk his way out of trouble all through college. 

“Good evening Mrs. Vanderbilt,” he said as he approached the older woman. She tottered slightly on her heels as she turned at the sound of her name. Unlike Race she was on her fourth or fifth champagne of the night. 

“Ah, Mr. Higgins! How are you? It’s always a pleasure to see an intelligent young man such as yourself at these things! And so handsome too!” She winked, and Race had to physically restrain himself from saying ‘Thanks, my boyfriend thinks so too.’

“I’m doing well and you look as lovely as ever this evening too,” he pushed as much warmth and charm into his voice as possible. Combining the tone he used when talking to his grandma with the one he had picked up from watching Medda tell off producers with backhanded compliments so they left thinking Medda was the nicest person they’d seen all month and not knowing she’d actually called them a bunch of money-hungry scoundrels. 

Mrs. Vanderbilt tittered and waved a practically diamond encrusted hand at him. “You’re too much! You make an old woman blush!” 

Race kept his smile plastered as he let her laugh herself out. Out of the corner of his eye he could see his coworker pressing her lips into an increasingly tight line where she was likely trapped in a conversation about politics with three of the guests. A topic he knew she had strong opinions on and none of them could ever get into at these things unless they wanted to risk jeopardizing the whole company. 

He started pulling the papers out of his breast pocket as Mrs. Vanderbilt wound herself down. “Now the last time we spoke the young girl you sponsored, Maggie, was just receiving her prosthetic. I thought you might like to see how she’s adjusted to it.” Race passed her the picture he had of Maggie and the rest of her soccer team, all beaming at the camera. 

The woman smiled down at the photo. “Yes, I received a lovely thank you card from her a few months ago. It’s so nice what you do, Mr. Higgins.”

“Thank you, ma’am. I’m actually currently working with another family right now on a prosthetic similar to Maggie’s.” That was a lie. Racetrack was working with no less than three different families right now and no prosthetic was alike as no two people were alike. “If you’d be interested, they could use some financial help as well.” He handed her the packet of paperwork, outlining financial and legal aspects of sponsoring one of his kids as well as blurbs about each of the ones they were seeking sponsorship for tonight. 

Mrs. Vanderbilt handed him her champagne glass as she took the paperwork from him. “My husband passed recently,” she said as she flipped to the bios. 

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Race told her. 

“Don’t be. He was a greedy old bastard. Could take twenty golf trips a year but hated when I donated anything. Even with the tax write-off.” She pointed at the page that outlined all the financial benefits of being a sponsor with a raised brow. Race blinked, consciously checking that his mouth hadn’t fallen open. “How much is it to sponsor all six?” She asked and began pulling a checkbook out of a clutch. 

Race was completely thrown. They were never given checks at these things, those were always sent later. And normally he had to give his carefully worded “The insurance companies and medical networks pay for my expertise, not the physical prosthetic” before anyone even thought about giving any money. 

“Mrs. Vanderbilt that is quite a lot,” he sputtered in his shock. 

“Come now Tony, you and I both know what this means for these kids. And I have all the extra funds since _I_ don’t golf.” Her eyes sparkled with amusement. 

Race struggled to regain his composure. “Of course, Mrs. Vanderbilt. I believe we secured at least one other sponsor tonight, but you are more than welcome to sponsor as many of our patients as you wish, we have more than just those who submitted bios, and our general fund helps cover physical therapy and those who do not receive full sponsorship.” 

“Hmmm. How about two then? And some for that general fund of yours,” she said, already starting to fill out the check. 

“Of course, Mrs. Vanderbilt. Although, why don’t you come in on Monday? You can meet with Alex, she handles all the foundation accounting, and she can give you some exacts.” Race said hurriedly, not wanting to mess this up. 

Mrs. Vanderbilt smiled, “You’re just here to tug our heartstrings?” Her tone was teasing but Race has heard the same phrase from other gala attendees before and it always riled him. 

“No ma’am,” he said firmly, “I’m here to advocate on behalf of my patients.” 

The older woman nodded, exchanging her checkbook for a business card. “That’s what I want to hear. Tell Alex I’ll be in on Monday with my account. This is for you, in case there ever is something that needs immediate action I’m willing to help. And I think you know how much trouble red tape can cause in those scenarios. You’re a good man Mr. Higgins and you do good work. I want to make sure that you keep doing that.” 

Race blinked but took the card. “Thank you, ma’am. Really.” 

“Of course,” she smiled kindly. “Now I’m keeping this to take with me on Monday, hand me my champagne and go work on someone a little less eager. Tell them that I’m donating at least a million, these women are a bunch of over competitive, underfed pains in the ass and will definitely try to top me. So, you should have your patients funded in no time.” 

Race laughed. “Mrs. Vanderbilt, you and I are going to get along famously.” 

“I sure hope so.” She started to walk away before saying over her shoulder, “And tell your boyfriend’s mother I said hello. I keep meaning to visit Medda but between her shows and her kids she never seems to have a spare minute.” With that she had disappeared into the crowd and Race was left standing there, laughing in shock. 


	3. Chapter 3

Everyone told Smalls that she shouldn’t expect a job right out of college. Medda, who had her work an hour a week in the box office so she stayed on payroll and could come back to the theater after graduation. Her brothers, who had started their own company and were already landing contracts or were quickly rising up the ranks at a local bookshop. Her brothers’ friends who had become her own as well, warning her that the job market sucked as they sent out application after application only to slowly hear back with offers as their own graduation dates neared. Even her advisor told her not to expect anything in her field in the first few years, that communications was competitive and you often had to have experience and connections just to have an application seen. 

So, six months before graduation when she was cuddling with her girlfriend Sniper on a Saturday night (because their partying days had disappeared when the boys graduated) Smalls decided to apply to the job opening on a whim. She had all the qualifications and she was the site’s target demographic, if anyone would be a good content creator for them it was Smalls with her big personality and bigger ideas. So, after three rounds of interviews over the course of the next two months Buzzfeed offered her the position as soon as she had her diploma. Smalls was floored. Ecstatic but thoroughly surprised. 

She’d been there for a year, and carefully saved parts of her paychecks as Sniper did the same at her job at a tech startup, when Smalls decided that it was time for them to start looking for an apartment in her home borough of the Bronx. She’d been living with Medda but her adoptive mother was fostering again, and Smalls knew how valuable her room was, there were always more kids than there were placements. Medda always swore that there would be a place for her children should they need it but they’d all been in the system and knew there were others who needed it more. Not to mention she was kind of tired of her mom giving her that Look whenever she came in late from being out with the boys. 

They’d found a small, one-bedroom apartment in their price range and Smalls was ready to sign the paperwork. First though, the final walk through with Spot in tow. He wasn’t an inspector, but he knew his building codes and how to fix just about anything, plus he was family, so Smalls trusted his opinion. After a solemn nod from her brother Smalls squealed and turned to grab Sniper. The two girls immediately began jumping around and saying to give them a pen, so they could sign the lease. 

“I can’t believe you’d willingly live in the Bronx,” Spot said as they headed back towards Manhattan and Medda’s for dinner. 

“Shut up, Conlon. You’re literally surrounded by hipsters over there in Brooklyn,” she shoved her brother lightly. He over dramatically leaned to the side, wind milling his arms to fake keeping his balance. Smalls snorted at his antics. “Five ways to kill your big brother: insult his turf so he falls into oncoming traffic.” 

Spot barked a short laugh and Sniper pantomimed writing that down, making Smalls giggle. “That’s a keeper babe. Quality clickbait,” Sniper smirked. 

“That’s what it says on my business cards,” Smalls fished her wallet out of her back pocket and passed them each one. Smiling as they laughed at:

Amy Smaltzer  
Buzzfeed Content Creator  
Queen of Quality Clickbait


	4. Chapter 4

Katherine stuck out her lower lip as she pouted. Bill continued to stare back at her, gaze unwavering. Kath clasped her hands together, holding them up in front of her in a pleading gesture. Still Bill was unmoved. 

“Oh, for Pete’s sake. Just give her the remote! I’d rather actually watch something and not you two have a power struggle,” Darcy said exasperated. 

Bill frowned, and Katherine snatched the remote from him triumphantly. She flipped on Project Runway just as Tim Gunn was imploring a designer to “Make it work!” 

“If this is what we’re watching I need more alcohol,” Bill informed them as he climbed over the back of Darcy’s couch and into the kitchen. 

“Oh boo!” Kath called at his back. 

“At least it’s not Real Housewives,” Darcy said dryly. That set off both Bill and Katherine, which was likely the intended effect because Darcy loved making his friends complain. 

“Those women!” Kath howled. 

“All they do is complain! That’s not entertainment!” Bill yelled from kitchen. 

Darcy snorted. “I dunno, this is pretty entertaining.” Kath pulled one of the throw pillows from behind her back and whacked Darcy on the side with it. He continued to laugh as she continued to hit him with the pillow. 

“Uncle! Uncle! My sister bought me that pillow!” Darcy finally gasped out between laughs and Katherine relented. She liked Darcy’s sister, even if she used to tag team with Katherine’s siblings to get her and Darcy in trouble when they were kids. But then again, she, Darcy, and Bill always got them back. 

“Look, I took the time off from my busy schedule-” Bill started only for Darcy and Kath to loudly object. 

“Busy schedule my ass! You’ve got what’s practically a nine ta five!” Kath glared at him. 

“You’re an anchorman! For the local news! You’re not working twelve-hour days hunting down leads!” Darcy added. 

“Hey, hey now,” Bill held up his hands - with a glass of whiskey in the one - in defense. “I _just_ got the anchor position. And it’s for the butt crack of dawn. So shush.” 

“Even before you weren’t doing real reporting,” Katherine quirked an eyebrow as she refused to move from where she’d sprawled into Bill’s seat. 

“I’ll admit, you two do bigger stories than I did but print news is a different ballgame.” Bill had to look down to meet Katherine’s gaze as she was lying on her back with her feet now in Darcy’s lap. 

“You know what we should do,” Darcy mused. Katherine sat up, genuinely curious and maybe a little wine drunk. She relinquished Bill’s seat and he took it happily. 

“I dunno Darce, what should we do?” She asked with a giggle. Yeah, that last glass of wine was starting to hit her. 

“We should do our own publication. A news magazine of some kind. Bill, you were always big on layout design and Kath you could get Jack to do graphics and illustrations. You, me, and Specs could write. Jack’s little sister too. I’m sure we could convince someone to print it. Hell, I know how to use the programs, we could print it ourselves!” Darcy rambled. 

“And what, pray tell, are we putting a magazine together _on_? What’s it about?” Bill sounded like he was humoring Darcy but when Kath glanced at him his face was serious. 

“Kath already has that blog on social justice, it could be like that. You know, shine a light on inequality in the city. Long form stuff,” Darcy waved his hands vaguely, knowing that Kath and Bill would follow his train of thought. 

Katherine felt herself nodding. “That’d actually be pretty cool,” she said. Then it hit her. “But we both love what we’re doing at _The Sun_ , I mean, Denton pretty much lets us each have a juicy long form piece every couple months. And Specs _just_ signed on as a political columnist. Not to mention, Smalls might never leave her current job. Plus, Bill just got the anchor position, even if it is when no one is watching.” Bill grumbled slightly at that. “And Jack _loves_ set design and his company is really taking off. Sure, he paints and draws but it’s mostly for himself and the occasional commission if he needs some cash.” 

“I’m not saying that we do it _tomorrow_! Just, something to think about. You know? Couple years, maybe find a few more people? It’s something.” Darcy shrugged. 

“Something. In a couple years, let’s think about it again. Yeah, Kath?” Bill looked at her. 

She glanced between the boys and bit her lip. Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the part of her that was genuinely excited by it, but Kath nodded. “In a couple years let’s see. Now you two nerds are making me want to watch Spotlight.” 

Darcy laughed as he got up to dig through his dvd collection.


	5. Chapter 5

Katherine double checked the address on her phone with the building she was currently standing in front of. Pushing against the last bit of nerves she walked up and pressed the doorbell labeled “D. Jacobs” and a few seconds later the door clicked unlocked. Kath heaved it open and headed up to the second-floor walkup. She rapped sharply on the door before taking half a step back to wait. 

“Katherine! You found me!” David said as he swung the door open with a smile. 

“For a minute there is thought I hadn’t,” she admitted. David had warned her that getting to his apartment building could be tricky, even for a native New Yorker like Kath. He hadn’t been kidding. 

“Well come in,” Davey stepped aside to let her in and Kath took in the cramped apartment. It reminded her a lot of the one she had her senior year of college, with the ornate finishes and high ceilings. Even the huge, original brick fireplace made Katherine smile in nostalgia. Davey relocked the door as she walked further into the living room. “You can just sit anywhere,” he said. 

“I brought snacks,” Kath held up the gallon carton of goldfish she had bought on the way there. 

Davey laughed and accepted them. “I’ll just grab a bowl.” He disappeared into the kitchen and Katherine settled herself on the sofa. Davey returned true to his word, a bowl of goldfish in one hand and two bottles of water in the other. 

“I’ll be honest, I was surprised when you texted asking if I wanted to come over and do a puzzle,” Katherine admitted. 

“Sarah mentioned that you had a bunch of puzzles in your hall closet so when my new one came I figured it be nice to have some help and thought you might be interested,” David shrugged as he settled on the couch. 

Kath threw her head back as she laughed. “That’s because I’m slowly stealing my parents rec room.” Davey shot her a confused look that Kath misinterpreted. “My dad and I used to do them together all the time.” 

Davey shook his head slightly and his lips twitched into a small smile. “Well I bought this online. It’s supposed to have infinite possibilities to put it together.” 

Call her a nerd but Kath could practically feel herself get jittery with excitement. The galaxy themed puzzle just looked cool as Davey dumped it onto coffee table. Katherine slid onto the floor and tossed her shoes off so that she could get more comfortable. “C’mon Davey, let’s go!” 

David laughed and joined her on the floor as they began flipping over the pieces. “You opposed to music?” He asked. 

“Turn up the tunes, Jacobs.” 

Davey laughed, tapping at his phone and soon the sounds of Panic! At the Disco and Katherine and Davey talking, laughing, and singing along filled the apartment. 


	6. Chapter 6

“Yo! Crutch! Mail!” Jack called as soon as he unlocked the apartment door. 

Crutchie looked up from where he was stirring chili on the stove and couldn’t help but laugh at his brother. “I’m right here, no need to yell.” 

Jack looked up from the pile of mail in surprise. “You making anything good?” he asked before picking his own pieces out and dumping the rest on the kitchen island. 

“Anything I make is good,” Crutchie smirked. “Especially when compared to your woeful ineptitude.” 

“Well that was a five-cent word,” Jack shot back. 

“Lucky for you, I’ve got a nickel.” 

“I’m surprised, after getting that English degree.” With that Jack high tailed it to his room. 

“Only I and John Mulaney get to make that joke!” Crutchie yelled after him. “Besides you’re one to talk mister art major!”

Jack cackled and Crutchie shook his head as he laughed. He set down the wooden spoon and turned to go through the pile of mail. It was mostly bills and junk. He smiled at the thank you card from Albert’s band boosters for helping to organize a fundraiser at the book store. But between the celebrity gossip magazines Jack denied he read and the latest issue of Country Kitchen was a thick envelope addressed to him. 

He lifted it gingerly and scrambled to grab a steak knife from the drawer to slice it open with. Carefully pulling the packet of papers out with shaking hands Crutchie held his breath as he read the letter on the top of the packet. 

_“Dear Mr. Charles Morris,  
It is with great pleasure and congratulations that we accept you into the Library and Information Science program at Rutgers University.” _

Crutchie blinked and read that first sentence again. And again. Then he grabbed the stool he had been sitting on as he cooked and sat down to read it again. Distantly he registered the slight scent of smoke but that was overpowered by the excitement screaming in his brain. 

“Jack. Jack! JACK!” 

“What?! What’s wrong? You ok?” Jack came running, practically sliding right into the kitchen island in his haste. 

“I got in. Jackie, I got in!” He shoved the letter in Jack’s face, his hand shaking from excitement as Jack grabbed his wrist to read the letter. 

“Holy shit. You’re moving to Jersey. Well fuck. Look at you kid!” He turned to his brother and grabbed him in a bear hug. 

Crutchie laughed as he returned Jack’s hug eagerly. “I don’t _have_ to move to New Jersey. It’s only like an hour drive. I could still live here.” 

“I’m sure that’s not taking into account traffic. And you know, not owning a car. Or having a license.” Jack rolled his eyes, but like Crutchie he hadn’t stopped smiling. 

“I can drive,” Crutchie smirked back. “In theory. Which is still better than Kath.” 

Jack started laughing at that and soon they both were laughing so hard in a strange combination of excitement and relief that Jack was sitting on the tile with his back against the cabinets and Crutchie was wiping tears from his eyes and still clutching the letter. 

A shrill wailing made them both jump in surprise. “Fuck,” Crutchie said as he grabbed one of his elbow crutches for balance and lunged towards the stove. Jack had jumped to his feet and rushed at the smoke alarm on the other end of the small kitchen. Turning off the burner Crutchie looked down at the chili sadly. It was definitely inedible. 

Jack winced as Crutchie just put the entire pot in the sink. “Guess we ought to call somebody and order dinner.” 

“Oh my god.” Crutchie turned to Jack, his eyes wide. “Medda. I have to call Medda.” 

Jack’s face split into a grin. “Yeah ya do! Here,” Jack pulled his phone out of his pocket and swiped it open. “If you do it now we might be able to catch her before she starts cooking and she’ll totally take us out to eat as a congrats.” 

Crutchie laughed as he pressed the already ringing phone to his ear. Medda would _stop_ cooking to take them out to dinner for this kind of news.


	7. Chapter 7

“Sarah? Do you know where Mom put the invoices from Ganz?” 

“No because Mom didn’t file them, I did. I am the manager you know,” Sarah smirked at him as she walked in with a folder in hand. “Invoices for gift items from the past month. What exactly are you still doing here anyway?” 

David gestured vaguely at his laptop and the small mountains of paperwork spread out on the counter in front of him. “What does it look like?” 

“A fire hazard. Oh! No, I’ve got it.” Sarah snapped her fingers as she pointed at him. “Eye strain.”

“You sound like Mom. ‘Turn on the light! You want to be blind when you’re my age?’” David said in a poor imitation of their mother. 

“She’s not wrong,” Sarah said wryly. 

David frowned. When he’d started the paperwork there had still been light streaming in through the big picture window in the front of the shop. It wasn’t his fault that was no longer the case. 

“Oh yes, I’d forgotten. It’s the turn of the twentieth century and only the rich elite have electric lights,” he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes at Sarah. “Let me just stop because we wouldn’t want to light the lamps with all this paper around, much too dangerous. Guess you’ll just have to wait on your pay.” 

Sarah snorted and flicked on the lamp that sat on the display behind them. “In that case, allow me to welcome you to the twenty-first century. Please pay me, I have student loans.” 

“She says to her twin as if he’s not in the same exact boat.” 

“You didn’t go to grad school. Hence, I have my own boat that’s taking on more water than yours that I’ve gotta bail out.” 

“You actually fully played out the analogy,” David shook his head and chuckled. He turned back to looking for the invoice he needed. 

“Indeed, I did. Now,” Sarah leaned against the counter next to him, peering over the accounting program on his laptop, “again I ask, what’re you doing here? It’s a Friday night, shouldn’t you be out on a date with your boyfriend?” 

“I could ask the same about you and your girlfriend,” David fired back. He located the right piece of paper and started typing in the relevant information. 

Sarah slumped to the floor and David glanced down at her worriedly. She had made some of the displays wobble with the sudden shift of weight on the floorboards. Sarah just sighed and leaned her head back, closing her eyes in a combination of exhaustion and exasperation. 

“I hate funeral home directors,” she told him. 

“Yeah, they’re the worst. What’s your point?” 

“Got a call at like four, Kane needs a casket spray for tomorrow morning. Tomorrow morning. The guy has been dead since Monday and you’re just now ordering the flowers? I- just- ugh.” Sarah cut herself off in frustration. “I had to send Jen out to get stuff since the cooler’s empty and now it needs to be made. Or is being made. I needed a break anyway.” 

“Well that sucks. Why are you making it though? You’ve been in since like eight this morning - I know cause I just looked at your time sheet - and it’s, what, seven thirty now? Mom or Dad could have easily made it for you earlier if you didn’t want to keep anybody else.” 

“Yeah but it’s not their _job_.”

“Yeah it kinda _is_. Sarah, they’re the owners. Sure, you’re the manager and damn good at it but they work here too.” 

“Except they don’t really. Dad has been super hands off the past couple months and Mom is always busy with Les. Like, they come and check in and talk to the wholesalers and the vendors and do promoting and displays but I’ve been in charge of all the floral design and, like, actual sales for months now,” Sarah sighed. She seemed exhausted. “I love them and I know they’re trying to prepare me for when they retire but like, I could’ve used the help tonight. Except when I’m owner I won’t get any so I figured I might as well get used to it.” 

David looked down at his sister. He settled himself on the floor next to her and wrapped his arms around her in a hug. “Sarah, I love you but you’re a fucking idiot.” 

That made her laugh and soon they were both sitting there on the floor of the shop, squeezed behind the front counter, and giggling manically. 

“What’s your excuse?” She asked once they’d both sobered up some. 

“I need the room to spread out and we kinda use this for costumer service the rest of the time.” 

Sarah snorted as she shoved his shoulder. “No shit Sherlock. I meant, why are you still here? And not in the this late sense. I know you could get a job at just about any high school, they’d be lucky to have you. And you’ve been itching to go back to grad school. I know you. I saw that civil war book with the tons of post-it’s sticking out the last time I was at your apartment.” 

“First off, fuck you Watson. Secondly, same reason you are. You really think Dad has the patience for this? Besides, that whole student loan thing we were _just_ talking about? Teacher salary isn’t exactly great with that, just ask Albert if you don’t believe me, and adding more debt is not going to help. Even if I really do want to be a professor. At least Mom and Dad actually pay me. I’m making a dent. Though the rent is kinda taking a chunk, even with a roommate.” 

Sarah laughed and leaned her head on his shoulder. “We’re a mess. When Bubbe and Zayde decide to move out do you wanna just split the apartment instead of the coin toss we keep planning on?” 

“Excuse me, your girlfriend is loaded. Live with her,” David joked. 

“She is not!” Sarah scoffed. “Just her family.” 

David laughed. “Exactly.” 

“Well, move in with Jack then! He’s got his own company.” 

“He’s an artist, Sarah. If anything we should all be worried about him the most,” David teased. 

“Disaster bisexuals. Why are they so damn cute?” Sarah shook her head with an over dramatic sigh. Making the two collapse into giggles again. 

“Sarah? David? Are you in here?” A voice called from the back room. 

“We’re here Dad!” David called back. 

Mayer walked out and looked down at his children in confusion. “We just got back from Shabbat and noticed the lights. We were worried. What’re you two doing here?” He asked, not unkindly. 

“Last minute funeral work,” Sarah explained. 

“Paperwork,” David shrugged as their dad began to slowly shake his head. 

“Why didn’t you tell us? Wait here, Esther can help you David and then Sarah you and I will finish up the funeral pieces.” 

“No, you just got back from services. We can’t ask you to do that,” David protested. 

“Yeah, just cause we’re breaking Shabbat doesn’t mean you have to too,” Sarah chimed in. 

Mayer waved them off. “It doesn’t count as work if you’re spending time with your family. At least to your mother and I. We’ll finish this quickly and then family movie night.” 

Sarah scrambled to her feet so she could throw her arms around their father. David pushed himself off the floor and followed suit. “Just as long as Les doesn’t pick the movie,” he mumbled as their dad hugged them back. 

Mayer laughed, a deep sound David could feel in his chest. “No. We’ve learned.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize profusely if I portrayed Shabbat and its rules inaccurately. My knowledge of Jewish religion and culture comes from my very patient best friend and other equally patient friends. I can only attest to my knowledge of flower shops.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [Carbon65](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carbon65/pseuds/Carbon65) who loves Kath stealing her family's rec room almost as much as I do and writes some of the greatest fics and nicest comments. Thanks Pigeon for always chatting about Newsies with me, whether on your fics or mine.

Katherine sipped her wine to keep herself from talking. She loved her family, really she did. Her siblings were great and their still tiny children running around calling her “Auntie Kitty” just made her ridiculously happy. Her mother was wonderful and Kath knew she’d have been lost about a hundred times over without her. Even her dad wasn’t a bad person. They were just too similar personality wise and too different opinion wise. Which is why she was trying desperately to keep her mouth shut. She just needed to get through this one meal and the rest of her Thanksgiving was going to be great. 

Although, it would’ve been better if Sarah had been there for lunch with her family too. Instead Kath’s girlfriend was helping to prepare her own family’s Thanksgiving dinner. Which is where Katherine was headed if she could just survive lunch. Which they hadn’t even gotten to yet. 

She’d been planning on bringing Jack or Crutchie, if only to entertain herself, but they’d ditched her for Finch and football. Having gone with the other boy to “support Albert’s kiddos” at the Turkey Day game. Never mind the fact that they’d all gone to more band competitions for Albert and his kids in the past three months than any of them had gone to when they were actually in high school. Or that Albert’s kids were just performing halftime and in the stands so the amount of support needed was highly debatable. Or the fact that Finch’s mom was supposedly still mad at Jack after a decade. Nope. Sports and Krypto were more important than her suffering. Ok, Krypto definitely was but still. 

Kath took another sip of her wine as she wandered after her sister from one room of the big house to the next, only half listening as Lucy chattered. She just needed to eat and then she could leave and have dinner with the Jacobs. Just don’t start any arguments and in two hours she would see her girlfriend. Get through today and on Saturday she could bitch about her dad to the boys and Medda at the dinner Medda had every year. On Monday she could swap stories with Darcy and hear about the horrors of traveling over the holidays from him and he could commiserate in exactly how frustrating her dad could be. 

“Katherine, did you just hear a single word I just said?” Lucy asked, a small smile pushing past the serious expression on her face. 

Kath winced. “No. Sorry. I’m a little distracted.” 

Lucy snickered, shaking her head. “I noticed. I said, maybe we can round up the kids and watch a movie while we wait on lunch. Knowing Dad, the VCR is still hooked up and we can watch some old school Disney.” 

Katherine felt her eyes widen but said nothing and Lucy had already turned to find the kids and their siblings, so she hadn’t noticed. Katherine swallowed the rest of her glass of wine before turning towards the kitchen. “Go on without me, I’m just going to refill this.” 

“At this rate you won’t make it to lunch sober,” Lucy teased lightly over her shoulder. 

“Maybe that’s the point,” Kath singsonged back. Lucy laughed, and Katherine made her escape. 

She slipped into the pantry and pulled her phone out of her skirt pocket - and honestly those pockets were the only good things in her life right now - before opening her snapchat. She sent a blurry picture of her heels and “SOS EMERGENCY I NEED HELP” in big red letters to their group. She bit her lip as she waited for a response. 

One from Race came through and Kath frantically swiped it open. It was video of Spot scowling at the camera while a toddler used him as a jungle gym and three more kids could be heard screaming in the background. The caption read “us first.” 

Kath let out a grumble in frustration before shoving her phone back in her pocket. She tried to sneak back out of the pantry, but her mother caught her with a “Kitty, honey, what were you doing in there?” 

“Oh, you know, seeing if there was any goldfish. For the kids,” she waved her hand airily and started heading towards the rec room. 

“It’s actually time for lunch, the food is ready so there’s no need,” her mom said with just a touch of sternness and Kath could hear the unsaid “don’t ruin their appetites” in her tone. 

“Well perfect! I’ll go tell them!” Katherine turned quickly and practically sprinted out of the kitchen. 

“Lucy! Munchkins! Brother dears! Sister darlings!” She called as she walked through the plush hall that lead back to the rec room where Lucy had wanted them all to congregate. “Foo-ood!” 

There was noise from the other side of the doorway and then a trio of children scampered past her. Lucy came next, looking puzzled and annoyed. Katherine’s oldest brother followed wearing the same expression as Lucy. If she didn’t already know what it was about she might have called it a family trait. 

Kath trailed after them, refilling her wine glass as they passed through the kitchen on the way to the dining room. She sat herself down and immediately avoided making eye contact with her family by staring resolutely at her plate. 

The meal started with pleasantries and the distribution of food. It turned to polite conversation that was dominated by the kids’ stories of preschool and daycare. When her father inevitably asked about working at _The Sun_ she smirked and was able to remind him of the corruption story she broke in spring that was on the fast track to sweeping the journalism awards. Her heart fluttered at his nod of respect and grudging admiration. Her father was a proud man and it was rare that she saw that pride directed at her and yet for an instant she did. 

Her sisters all oohed and ahed over it as well and her brothers offered their congratulations. Katherine smiled and turned back to her turkey while her father turned to interrogating her eldest sister’s husband. 

Kath helped bring out the desserts and was digging into her mom’s famous pumpkin pie when the question she had been avoiding most of the day finally came up. 

“You know,” Lucy started as she pushed her own slice of pecan pie around her plate, “I took the kids into the rec room to watch some movies and you know what was missing? All our movies.” 

“Did you get rid of our stuff?” Constance practically screeched. 

“Dad! What about my old video games?” Ralph’s face forced Kath to focus on her pie as he looked personally offended at the idea which made it very hard for her to not laugh. 

Joseph blinked in surprise. He opened his mouth to speak but Herbert interrupted with an eye roll and a “Please. When was the last time you used them? When was the last time you even stepped foot in there? If you wanted something you should’ve taken it when you moved out.” 

With that the Pulitzer children split, taking sides and taking aim as verbal war broke out. Their father took most of the fire and his shock and confusion only added to her enjoyment. It also meant that no one questioned why the most outspoken member of the family was staying oddly quiet. It was chaos. Kath reveled in it. 

She finished her pie and quietly slipped away from the table and out the door to head to the Jacobs’. She’d left like the bandit she was. Seeing as how her movie collection had practically quadrupled and her twice monthly game nights had become a huge hit. Not to mention the damn fish had been the best anniversary gift Spot and Race ever received and now hung proudly in their entrance hall where visitors could watch it sing. 

Now Katherine just had a year to figure out how to keep herself entertained next Thanksgiving.


	9. Chapter 9

“I swear on all things holy...” Crutchie mumbled and Jack winced. 

He glanced over to where his brother was editing one of his videos on the couch. “You can hear me from there?” Jack asked Crutchie from the doorway of his room. 

“Yes. You’re singing fucking Santa Fe again. The joke is _old_ Jackie. We all know you’re not moving, you’d miss me too much.” Crutchie shot a shit eating grin over his shoulder at Jack. Though there was truth behind his words. 

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry. It’s catchy, ok?” Jack tried to defend himself. He turned back to the canvas he had been painting and frowned. 

“Yeah, I know. We’ve both seen Rent more times than life itself. But there is no way in hell that _you’d_ ever be able to open up a restaurant. You’re a serial toast burner.” 

“Hey, at least it’s better than being a serial killer,” Jack told him, sticking his head into the living room and giving his brother a goofy grin. 

Crutchie raised his eyebrows. “Somehow you manage to kill that too. And all you’ve gotta do is add milk.” 

Jack pointed his paintbrush at Crutchie accusingly, furrowing his brows. “That was a _terrible_ pun. You owe me at least a dime.”

“Uh uh, no way. I could eat two weeks on a dime. Cause I know how to cook.” 

“You want me to make it ten dollars in the jar instead of ten cents? You know that means I get to rap Hamilton,” Jack threatened. 

“Nooo,” Crutchie groaned. “Fuck. Fine. I’ll venmo you.” He grabbed his phone off the coffee table and tapped at the screen. 

Jack pulled his own out of his pocket as it buzzed. He smiled at the notification. “This whole ‘pun jar’ thing has been quite lucrative since we’ve made it digital.” 

“I’d be less annoyed if you didn’t use it to buy such shitty beer.” 

“Excuse you,” Jack gasped, doing his best to sound highly offended. “I buy only the _finest_ cheap beer.” 

“Emphasis on _cheap_ ,” Crutchie laughed. “With the money you’re making off of me you can definitely afford better.”

“Well I’m sorry if your taste buds just aren’t as refined as mine,” Jack sniffed haughtily, going back into his room. He smiled to himself as he heard Crutchie burst out laughing. 

He spent the next few minutes starring at his canvas. He was trying to paint a birthday present for Kath. It was supposed to be the image of Lois Lane in her suit with her tape recorder and press pass for his own intrepid girl reporter. Except right now it just... wasn’t. Jack knew when it was time to take a break. And right now was the time to take a break. He cleaned up quickly and went to go sit next to Crutchie on the couch. 

“D’you mind?” Jack gestured vaguely to the tv. 

“Nah. Go ahead.”

Jack nodded and snagged the remote off the coffee table and flipped the television over to YouTube. He pulled up the musical and settled back against the couch. 

“Firebringer?” Crutchie asked as he glanced between Jack and the tv. 

“Yeah. I was texting Rachel earlier and she sent that gif with the ‘I don’t wanna do the work today’ and it got stuck in my head and it’s been there literally all day.” 

Snorting Crutchie asked, “That why you were singing Santa Fe?” 

Jack ducked his head. “Maybe...” he said sheepishly. 

Crutchie smirked and slipped his headphones on so he could keep editing his video. Jack was silently thanking the universe for the glory that was Team StarKid, letting himself enjoy the show for what had to be the hundredth time. 

About a half hour in, Crutchie closed his laptop and slipped his headphones off again. He put them on the coffee table and stretched out across the sofa, putting his feet in Jack’s lap in the process. Jack patted his brother’s good leg and smiled at him. 

“Jack?” Crutchie asked curiously after another bit of comfortable silence. 

Jack lowered the volume and turned to Crutchie. “What’s up?” 

“What _was_ the appeal of Santa Fe?” 

Jack frowned. He was used to the teasing, Kath had bought him a cactus for chrissake. The amount of times Race said that he _should_ move to the desert since he was such a prick was enough that the rest of their friends could tell when the joke was coming. At this point he even made fun of himself for it. Happily adopting the nickname Cowboy during frisbee games. Putting the joke in his bio for shows. _“F. Jonathan Kelly, known to his friends as Jack, is a proud born and bred New Yorker. Though if you ask him he’ll say he’s from Santa Fe, New Mexico. He lies.”_

At this point though no one had seriously asked him about it in years. Not even his therapist who he saw monthly and at this point knew his entire life story. The more he thought, the more he realized that anyone hadn’t taken him at more than face value about it in years either. Or at the very least confronted him. 

In college it had all been a joke. A sort of “crisis averted” type thing with his brothers after he’d committed to college in the city. Sure, their friends had asked, Kath especially took some time to come around to it, but that was it. It’d come up again around David and Sarah and Les. They too hadn’t said too much though. Davey mentioned that he was glad Jack never left but other than joining in by poking fun about tarantulas and sandstorms and rattlesnakes, that was it. 

“Uh Jackie? Don’t think too hard, I can already smell the smoke,” Crutchie joked. Jack could tell he was trying to pull him out of his head before he got lost. Thank the universe for Crutchie because Jack was positive he really _would_ have gotten lost a long time ago. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled. 

“Nah. You’re fine. Ya don’t gotta explain if you don’t want to.” 

Jack shook his head. “Nah. Just haven’t really thought about it in a while.” He took a deep breathe. “I mean, I applied to college out there cause I’d always wanted to go and it was an excellent art school.” 

“That’s fair.” 

“Except the theater scene isn’t exactly cutting edge,” he smirked. 

Crutchie laughed. “Not really, no.”

“I guess the idea of just starting over really appealed to me? And New Mexico is _so_ different from New York. It’s a lot easier to just run away from your problems than face ‘em.” Jack finished with a shrug. 

Nodding Crutchie settled deeper into the couch and Jack let his mind continue to wander. His mouth to continue to ramble. 

“I guess just having the desert so close? And it being just completely different climate and state and just not what I was around every day made it so appealing? I don’t know. I honestly couldn’t even tell you how I first heard of it. Just grew up watching westerns and then when my dad got arrested and I got placed in foster care that was what I latched on to. Going out west to start over. 

“I think that’s why I latched on to Rent so much too. I mean, sure the fact that there’s a song that expresses some of the same exact feelings and desires I had was impactful. And was about the same places. But just overall? To see people who were dreamers and artists? Who I related to in a lot of ways? And to see them so disenchanted and tired with the world? It just struck me. Hard. But now? Now I see the glory in not letting the world change me but by changing the world. That show helped a lot with me just figuring out those feelings and why I was having them and all. 

“Plus, Roger and Horace Greeley both moved back to New York so the whole ‘go West young man!’ thing is obviously a bust.” 

Crutchie rolled his eyes and Jack laughed. He shoved his brother’s shoulder and Crutchie leaned forward to push him back. 

“Anyway,” Jack added, “I’ve got a great family, ridiculous friends, and an amazing boyfriend in New York so comparatively Santa Fe’s got nothin’ ‘cept, as Dave would say ‘sandstorms and tarantulas.’”


	10. Chapter 10

Jack was whining. Hoo boy was Jack whining. “Kathe _rine_ ,” filtered through the phone. Darcy could hear it from his desk where he was snickering, she could tell by the snickering. “Puh-leeeeaaaase?” Jack pleaded on the other end of the line. Kath rolled her eyes. “I _need_ yoooou.”

“Jack,” she cut him off before he could continue. “You’re a strong independent woman who don’t need no man. Go by yourself.” 

Darcy was now physically restraining himself from laughing. A hand pressed tight to his mouth. 

“But Kath, we both know I am literally none of those things.” And oh god, she could hear the pout. 

“You are the most _insufferable_ boy,” she muttered. “Why don’t you just take your man? I’m sure Davey would be happy to go.” 

“He’s visiting family upstate,” Jack huffed. 

“Wow. That sucks. For him,” Kath said sarcastically. “Too bad you don’t have a couple siblings or, I don’t know, an entire army of friends who you could ask?” 

“Well you are my friend! I want to go with you! Want you to come with me!” 

“They all said no.”

“They all said no,” Jack confirmed. 

Katherine snorted and shook her head. “It’s an off-broadway show?”

“Yeah, some friends from college created it. I’m like ninety-eight percent sure you’ve met them.” 

“I don’t know. But ok. Sure. Fine. I’ll go with you. I don’t get why you can’t just be an adult and go by yourself?” Kath slouched back in her chair, defeated. 

“Because I’m not an adult and as such need supervision. Thanks Kath! I’ll pick you up at six!” With that Jack hung up and Kath was left laughing at her desk.


	11. Chapter 11

Katherine had plans. Her plans were doing nothing but still. She might have caught up on Madame Secretary. Done a face mask. Cleaned out her fridge. The possibilities had been endless. 

Except the boys had other plans. Or at least their group chat did. 

Kath just watched as the notifications rolled in. One after the other. Non-stop. She finally got bored after about five minutes and decided to just leave it, rolling off the couch to put a dvd in. 

She finished The Incredibles and checked her phone. It was still being spammed and her battery had dropped percentage significantly. Kath grabbed her extra-long charger and plugged it in. 

Falling into her beanbag chair with her laptop she opened up Tumblr. Another hour wasted on her blogs. She flipped over to her word doc and started typing out some poetry. Then checked her email. Just coupons. Pulled up ao3, read some Les Mis fanfic. Closed ao3. 

With a sigh Kath pushed herself out of the beanbag, setting her laptop on the couch as she passed. She checked her phone. Still being spammed. 

Katherine wandered into the kitchen. She moved around, opening cabinets and setting about making herself a cup of coffee and some French toast. Breakfast for lunch was totally acceptable when you were by yourself with no one to judge. It was good French toast too. And better coffee. She cleaned up. Then checked her phone. 

The last notification was time stamped twenty minutes earlier. It seemed safe to finally see what all the nonsense was about. 

Kath got comfy on the couch and unlocked her phone. She opened up snapchat and braced herself. She spent the rest of the afternoon cracking up at their antics. So maybe it was a good thing she had no plans and no intentions to leave her apartment. Jack, Crutchie, Spot, and Racetrack managed to brighten her day anyway.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to do this in honor of SDCC. But Comic Con ended and I was too busy to finish this. Better late than never though!

Hurry _up_!” Finch yelled down the hall. Crutchie and Race were going to be there any minute. “Albert!”

There was a knock and Finch opened the apartment door to reveal Race in a Green Lantern shirt, leather bomber jacket, and his mirrored aviators; next to him was Crutchie dressed in jeans and a button down with a Metropolis Monarchs baseball cap that Finch was ninety-eight percent sure he had given to Jack as a birthday present. Race had a wicked grin and Finch was momentarily confused until he realized that the other boy must have heard him yelling. He felt his stomach sink as Race confirmed his worse fears. 

“Al-bert! Allll-bert! A-a-a-al-bert!” Race sang in a poor imitation of Chita Rivera. 

Finch winced as Cruthie started swearing. “The fuck Racetrack? I swear between you and Jack I’m going to be haunted by that fucking show for my entire fucking life.” 

“What exactly do you have against Birdie anyway?” Race asked as he invited himself in and flopped down on the couch. 

Crutchie rolled his eyes as he followed after Race. “I played Randolph my freshman year of high school. Anyone who spends that much time with that show has attempted to mentally block the whole experience.” 

Finch grimaced. He remembered their friends all half singing, half whining _“we love you Conrad! Oh yes we do!”_ for the rest of their time in high school. It was like a spell that was guaranteed to piss off anyone in a ten-foot radius when sung in the arts department hall. 

“What high school experience are we blocking from our memories? Cause I can assure you that teaching high school will _not_ help with that,” Albert asked, finally emerging from his room. He was adjusting the straps on his backpack that had been carefully designed to look like an organ transplant cooler. Because Albert went big on his cosplays. “Wait. Am I the only one dressed up?” 

Finch looked between his three friends and himself in confusion. “Um, no? Race is Hal Jordan-”

“Obviously,” Race said and pressed on the backs of his sunglasses to get them to wiggle. 

“I’m Jimmy Olsen! To go with Finch’s Clark Kent,” Crutchie held up his DSLR camera from where it hung around his neck. Finch raised a finger and turned to grab the two old press passes that Kath had given them and he’d modified to say _The Daily Planet_ instead of _The New York Sun_. Crutchie clipped his to his camera strap and Finch clipped his own to his breast pocket. 

“I was wondering why you spent so much time in the bathroom if you weren’t putting your contacts in,” Albert admitted, motioning towards the curl that Finch had carefully gelled into place. 

“I’ve got the shirt on underneath if you’re unimpressed,” Finch unbuttoned his white dress shirt slightly to prove to his roommate that there was indeed a Superman T-shirt under it. 

“I believed you. I mean, Krypto has his cosplay collar on and special cape vest,” Albert was walking around the apartment, throwing last minute things into his backpack as he spoke. 

“So, what’s the problem with our costumes?” Race asked and crossed his arms. 

“I didn’t realize you were wearing one, since you and Hal Jordan are basically both just dicks,” Albert smirked. 

Race yelled and jumped to his feet, Finch and Crutchie exchanged a look. Throwing his backpack on, Finch grabbed Krypto’s leash and headed towards the door. “If you’re arguing, you’re staying!” 

“Besides, I thought Wally West liked Hal,” Crutchie added as he followed after Finch. 

There was grumbling from behind, but the budding argument had been cut off and Race and Albert were now following them into the hall. The neighbor across from them raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything as she unlocked her door. Apparently, a grown man in a Kid Flash costume caught New Yorkers’ attention. Finch thought the subway ride with Albert was going to be fun, especially if they ran into any tourists, as they headed towards the exit. 

They had a blast at Comic Con and Albert with his crazy accurate Young Justice version Kid Flash cosplay was the talk of the day. Crutchie took tons of pictures and filmed most of their adventures, something Albert would complain about once it was posted to YouTube and his kids inevitably found it. 

Race bought more merch than anyone was expecting and had to split it up between all of their bags. He was also nearly kicked out of a panel when he called DC cowards for not letting the BatCat wedding happen. That issue came out in July. It was now October. Even Finch had let some of his saltiness over that fiasco go. 

Crutchie practically melted when he got to meet Gail Simone, not that Finch was any better. And she just adored Krypto. Admittedly though, everyone adored Krypto. He was even more popular than Albert. Finch was asked if people could pose with his dog by tons of Supergirls, Superboys, Supermans and Clark Kents alike, and even a few Lois’s. His favorite though was a teenager dressed as Damian Wayne Robin who had his friend record him taking Krypto’s leash from Finch as he said “I’m taking your dog, Kent. He lives on a farm, I have a cow. He’ll fit right in at the manor.” Finch died laughing when he was tagged in the insta post. 

All in all, Finch thought it was a fun day and a successful Comic Con. If only because it was spent with three of his best friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New York Comic Con is where the boys are going, it takes place the first weekend in October normally. All of them are dressed as DC Comics characters cause I'm a DC nerd. [This is what Albert's costume looks like with the backpack.](https://fsmedia.imgix.net/be/d9/2b/ce/06d8/4370/8d81/97e886736ce0/young-justice-2012.jpeg?rect=0%2C0%2C1920%2C960&auto=format%2Ccompress&w=650) BatCat is the ship name for Batman/Catwoman, they were supposed to be married in the early July issue of of Batman but DC pulled some bullshit and they're not getting married now. Cause DC sucks. Gail Simone is a comic writer best known for her work on Deadpool, Birds of Prey, Batgirl, and Red Sonja. Currently she writes Domino for Marvel. 12/10 recommend giving her a google. I think that's all the necessary comic related notes? If you have questions feel free to leave a comment and I'm more than happy to explain!


	13. Chapter 13

David was reading a Les Mis fanfic that Katherine had sent him on his phone. It was down pouring outside so there was no real foot traffic and the store was quiet. Sarah was singing along to a Fall Out Boy song that was playing over the speakers as she scrubbed buckets in the work room. Jen was finishing the last of a funeral piece. Otherwise, there was nothing. 

He wasn’t opposed to slow days like this, he just got bored. And he felt guilty that his parents were paying him to bum the internet. 

The bell rang as the door opened and David stuffed his phone back into his apron pocket as he straightened up from leaning against the counter. 

“Little shop! Little shop of horrors! Bop shoo bop! Little shop of terrors!” Race sang as he shook his umbrella off out the door behind him. 

David rolled his eyes in exasperation, but a smile tugged at his lips. 

“I SWEAR Tony!” Sarah yelled from the workroom, causing the two boys to snort. 

Race waved David out from behind the counter and grabbed him in a dancer’s embrace. He began leading David around the shop in a tango as he sang. “Mushnik and son! What business we’ll do for FTD!” 

David dropped his hand from Race’s as he doubled over laughing. “We don’t even have FTD.” He got out between snorts. 

Sarah came to stand in the door to the front room and glare at them. David saw their mom in that look but it was his twin sister giving it, so he wasn’t too intimidated. Race went rigged though. 

“You showtune junkie,” Sarah hissed. “Do you realize how bad for business that particular musical is? Or the bad rep it gives botanists?” 

“Sarah-” David started to speak but was cut off. 

“Hold up,” Race put his hands on his hips as he stared her down. “You _willingly_ put your name in my phone as Poison Ivy. I don’t think that a cult film-slash-musical could be offensive to you and yet a Batman villain isn’t.” 

David opened his mouth and was again unable to speak as Sarah began arguing back. “That’s only because _you_ didn’t tell me that there was a comic character that was a florist. _Finch_ has me in as Black Canary.” 

“Because you’re a botanist!” 

“ _And_ a florist,” Sarah spread her arms in a gesture that encompassed the whole shop. 

David raised an eyebrow at his sister’s smirk as Racetrack floundered to respond. “Are you both done?” He asked them dryly. 

Sarah shrugged. “For now.” 

David rolled his eyes as he shook his head. He turned to Race, “She’s messing with you. She loves Little Shop, just doesn’t like people calling all her plants Two-y.” 

Race looked utterly appalled as he turned to Sarah. Her smirk was downright evil. David watched with amusement as Race slowly pushed his lower lip out into a pout. “Why you gotta be like that?”

“Well, we are _downtown_ ,” Sarah sang the last part and spun on her heel to go back to bucket scrubbing. 

“Told you,” David said to his friend with a shrug. Race just blinked back at him. “You seem a little surprised. You want to just take Spot his flowers and go home?”

Race nodded. 

Laughing to himself, David got the flowers from the cooler and rang Race up. He was handing the frequent buyer card back when the other boy finally found his voice again. His normally very loud and often used voice. That David’s snarky sister had shocked out of him. 

“Uh, Dave? You said something about not having FTD. What _is_ FTD?”

“It’s a wire service,” David explained. “You pay to be affiliated and if you’re ordering flowers for out of town it goes through them. We used to have them and Teleflora when I was growing up but with the internet they’re just a money drain because you have to pay to be a member and to buy their official vases and other crap which never sell and it’s just not worth it.” 

“Huh,” Race nodded and picked up his flowers from the countertop. “Ya learn something new every day.” 

“Like that you have a broadway problem,” David told him dryly. 

“We both know you did not _just_ learn that. Also, in my defense-”

“This oughta be good,” David muttered. He grinned when Race shot him a glare. 

“ _In my defense_ ,” Race continued. “Spot and Jack got hired to do the set for a production of Little Shop.” 

“You say that like I don’t talk to my boyfriend,” David laughed. “He spent the entire day in here yesterday ‘for research and inspiration.’” 

“Oh yeah,” Race frowned, “I forgot about that.” 

David snorted. “Go home, it’s a Friday and your brain is officially fried. I’ll see you Sunday morning.” 

Racetrack grinned. “Sure will! Bye Sarah!” He yelled toward the back. “See ya, Dave! Don’t go letting her pick up any weird plants during total eclipses of the sun.” 

He couldn’t help but to shake his head as he laughed. “Trust me, I won’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like Little Shop of Horrors is the only explanation I can give for this. Also? They're coming out with Little Shop Funko Pop figures! I'm getting my mom an Audrey II to put in her shop. And! I bought my ticket to see it at the Kennedy Center a few days before Halloween. So yeah, it's on my brain rn.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For [HarmonyLover](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarmonyLover/pseuds/HarmonyLover) who leaves the most encouraging comments and is writing a fic that's better researched than some essays I've turned in.

He was drumming his fingers against the tabletop as he glanced around the trendy cafe. Race shifted nervously in his seat for what felt like the hundredth time that minute. The cafe’s door opened and Race’s head shot up. Only for him to slouch back into his chair again when he didn’t recognize the person walking in. 

A few minutes later Race repeated this action. Except this time the woman walking through the door was exactly who he was waiting for. Race leapt to his feet and waved awkwardly. Sticking out his hand to shake once she reached the table. 

“Mrs. Vanderbilt! Thank you so much for agreeing to join me for lunch,” he said with a smile. 

 The older woman waved him off as she settled herself in her chair. “Mr. Higgins, I am more than happy to get lunch with a bright young man such as yourself. Now I realize you’ll try to refuse but I insist on paying.” 

Race opened his mouth to protest, he had invited her after all. Mrs. Vanderbilt shot him a look before pointedly picking up her menu. Race fell silent and examined his own. 

He knew the importance of good networking and Mrs. Vanderbilt was by and far their largest benefactor. She’d also offered to personally help Racetrack should the need arise. That had yet to happen but staying on good terms couldn’t hurt, just in case it did. 

Not to mention, he’d talked to Medda since the gala and it turns out that the two women had been actresses together when they were younger. They’d stayed friends and Medda had nothing but praise for the other woman. Race trusted Medda’s judge of character implicitly. So, he invited Mrs. Vanderbilt to lunch. 

They placed their orders and Race swallowed nervously under her gaze. He felt like he was in high school again and had just been sent to the principal’s office for making elephant toothpaste in the chem lab during study hall. He hadn’t done anything _wrong._ Strictly speaking. It was just unexpected and led to awkward conversations. 

“Tony, you look as though you’re about to be sick. I can’t possibly be _that_ intimidating,” she laughed. 

Chuckling, Race took a sip of his water. “Sorry. This is, ah, a new experience,” he admitted. 

“There’s no shame in asking for help. And I did offer and do not intend to rescind that offer,” she told him candidly. 

“That’s- that’s not why I asked you here,” Race said quickly. “I mean, I appreciate the offer. But I just thought that you’d like to have lunch and I could explain a little bit about what exactly my job is. That you might be interested in it.” 

Mrs. Vanderbilt blinked and a slow smile grew on her face. “Well Mr. Higgins, that’s very kind of you. I must admit I _am_ curious. And it’s always delightful to go out for lunch. And to make a new friend.” 

“Good.” Race nodded quickly and smiled in return. “Excellent. Well, do you have any questions?” 

“Many. I think it’d be wise to table them for another day though. What do you like to do when you’re not helping save the world or chatting up rich old bitties?” 

Race laughed and nodded. He could talk about just about anything but his friends who he spent the most free time with were his favorite topic. He told her about their frisbee games, Finch and Krypto, going to the cover band gigs and marching band competitions. All about Spot and how they met and how long they’d been together, she cooed at that and mentioned how much Medda talked about them. That made him blush. Profusely. By the time he had to start getting back to work he was only just touching on Spot and Jack’s company and all the cool shows they’d done. 

“Do you like theater?” Mrs. Vanderbilt asked as they walked out together. 

“A little too much if you ask anyone who knows me,” Race admitted with a laugh. 

“I’ll remember that. We’ll start there next time. Same time next week? I’ll text you the restaurant.” Mrs. Vanderbilt told him as she typed it into her phone calendar. 

“I’d love to. This has been great,” Race told her honestly. 

“It has. Thank you, Tony. I’m really glad you reached out.” 

“Me too,” Race said. They parted and he headed towards the subway with a smile on his face. 


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by/based on an episode of Bull. Highly recommend if you like snark and a new take on courtroom dramas. Also, Christopher Jackson is in it! Also- I completely made up how Kath vets her sources, it's totally false and a completely anonymous tip is bad journalistic practices because it can lead to problems like these.

Kath paced, really glad that she’d worn jeans and her docs for this particular adventure. An officer appeared with Jack in tow, he raised an eyebrow but said nothing as the officer approached the bars of the holding cell and said, “Katherine Pulitzer? Looks like you’ve made bail.” 

She practically leapt from the cell as soon as the door was opened and rushed past Jack towards the front desk. Her bag and jacket where there, she rifled quickly through to take stock that everything was still in it before nodding curtly and marching outside. The sun was cresting between the buildings and Kath squinted at the light. 

“You wanna tell me why I’m standing on the steps of a police station at eight am after bailing you out?” Jack asked, not unkindly as the concern toned down the sass. 

Katherine sighed and flopped down onto the steps, she was going to have to call in late to work anyway at this point and she owed Jack an explanation. “I’ve been working on a story – well I pretty much have it finished – and I got a tip that would completely blow it wide open.” 

“That investigative piece, right? You said something about data storing and break ins?” 

“Yeah,” Kath nodded. “This new ride-share app is storing addresses and pickup times to sell to the highest bidders which happen to be criminals that are then going and robbing the users’ homes. Mostly high-end stuff but I’ve got sources who are victims from just about everywhere. I’ve been hiking all over the city the past couple months meeting with them. It’s pretty much written, the evidence is overwhelming, but I got a call from someone claiming to be an employee who heard about my investigation and wanted to help. They sent me a key to swipe in and access their records, I was going to download it and Elmer had agreed to go over the code for me to pinpoint where exactly they’re funneling the information off.” 

Jack nodded as she paused, for breath and to make sure she hadn’t lost him in her rush of frustration. 

“So,” Kath continued, “I go and swipe in, head to the server room, download the file I was told would help and leave. I walk out the door and I’m immediately arrested. Accused of corporate espionage!” Kath threw up her hands and Jack let out a low whistle. 

“I showed them my credentials, told them I’d been sent the key, and still wound up in jail overnight. I guess I’m going to have to go to court,” she finished up glumly. 

Jack shook his head. “Jeez Katherine. You’re ok though? I mean, the court thing is serious, but you weren’t hurt or anything?” 

Katherine squinted up at him, her mouth twisting into a fond smile at his look of unabashed concern. “The only thing I need right now is to wash the smell of holding cell out of my hair. I haven’t spent the night in jail since college and I did not miss it,” she said wryly. 

Jack chuckled and offered his hand to pull her back up. “That was a fun semester. How about this, you call in late and I’ll take you to Jacobi’s for breakfast then you can head home and shower before explaining this mess to Denton. And calling a lawyer.” 

“Aye, aye, Captain Jack,” she said dryly but let him tug her to her feet. He snorted as they headed towards the subway and she fished her phone out of her bag, grateful for the battery pack she forgot about and was able to plug her phone in to. She tapped out the number for Denton’s cell and prayed he’d already gotten above ground to the land of service from his morning commute. 

After a couple rings he picked up with a “Katherine! What’s up?” 

“Hey Denton, I’m going to be coming in late today and we’re going to have to pull that piece I was working on.” 

“Wait, why? I thought you said it was good to go? That you had one last source but even if it didn’t pan out that you were solid?” 

Katherine winced, and Jack patted her back sympathetically as they shouldered their way down the sidewalk. “About that... I got arrested last night and until the charges are resolved we’re going to have to hold off.” 

The other end of the line was silent for a few seconds before Denton sighed. “What exactly were you arrested for? You’re not hurt. This call isn’t to say you’re late because you’re going to the emergency room?” 

Kath couldn’t help but smile at that, it was such a Denton response. “I’m fine. I just need to go home and change, definitely shower. And Jack has taken it upon himself to take me to breakfast.” The boy in question glanced over from where he’d been furiously texting at the sound of his name. 

She smiled at him as Denton made a sound of understanding on the other end of the line. “So should I rally the legal team? You still haven’t said what exactly happened.” 

Kath sighed and tilted her head up towards the dizzying heights of the buildings around them. “It’s a long story but I’ve been accused of corporate espionage.” 

“Well that’s a new one,” Denton responded with dryly. 

“I know. Makes it sound like I’m really moving up in the world compared to the rest of my arrest record,” Kath snorted. 

“Hmm, I thought we’d agreed I didn’t know about that during business hours?” Denton joked. 

“Well you’re going to have to if you’re calling legal,” she pointed out. 

Denton just laughed, and she could almost see him shaking his head at her antics as he walked into the building. “Alright. Thanks for the heads up, we’ll talk when you get in but don’t rush.” 

“Will do. Thanks, Bryan.” 

“Anytime, Kath.” 

The call ended just in time for her and Jack to duck into the depths of the subway. She leaned against him as they sat on the train. He was braiding her hair for her, something she greatly appreciated as Kath was exhausted and her curls were limp. “I texted Davey and Crutchie, invited them to join us.” Jack told her. 

Kath made a noncommittal hum as the events of the night before hit her like a truck and weighed her down. They got off the train and made the short walk to Jacobi’s in silence. Her brain registered that the two boys were sitting in their usual booth as she slid in next to them, but she didn’t have the energy to acknowledge them and let herself flop forward onto the table. 

“Uh, Kit-Kath? You good there?” Charlie asked, pressing his cheek against the formica tabletop to meet her eye. 

“It’s been a Time,” was her only response. 

“We took the liberty of ordering you coffee,” David said and pushed a mug toward her. 

Instantly perking up, Kath drank the steaming liquid eagerly. Barely managing not to burn her tongue. “You sir, are a god among men,” Kath informed him. 

Jack snorted and the tips of David’s ears turned pink. “Uh, thanks?” 

“So can I tell them while you finish inhaling the elixir of life?” Jack asked, and Kath made a face at him from over her mug. “I’m going to take that as a no.”

She nodded and the boys all waited as she finished her drink and gathered her thoughts. “So I got arrested,” she paused and waited for any reactions. Charlie raised a curious eyebrow while David’s jaw dropped. 

“You were WHAT?!” He practically screeched and she felt Jack and Charlie flinch on either side of her. 

“I spent the night being questioned by the NYPD and I’d still be in a holding cell if Jack hadn’t bailed me out. Long story short: I’ve been accused of corporate espionage and I highly suspect I’m being framed as a result of my investigation.” Kath gave a little shrug, as though it were no big deal when in reality she was just too tired to register the full implications. 

“That’s... ok. Wow,” David blinked. “Have you told Sarah?” 

“Shit.” Kath’s heart rate spiked as she scrambled for her phone. She typed out a quick text saying good morning and then another saying she’d call her at lunch but not to worry, she was fine, she just spent the night in jail. “She’s so going to kill me.” Kath informed the boys. They all agreed. 

“So what do you think happened?” Charlie asked once they got their food. He was eating an apple crepe rather pensively. 

Kath swallowed her mouthful of waffle before she answered. Although admittedly she just barely remembered to do so. “Well obviously the company got wind of my story and decided to shut me down. They sent me the key and instructions and they’re the ones who called the cops.” 

“Did you even know what you were downloading?” David asked, curiosity rather than condescension coloring his voice. This was why Kath liked him. 

“Honestly? No clue. I’m basic at best with HTML. This was completely out of my wheelhouse, I was going completely on trust and Elmer had agreed to then take a look at it for me,” she admitted. 

“This is gonna sound like a dumb question, and please don’t hit me for it, but did you vet your source first?” Jack cringed, anticipating a shove that never came. 

Instead, Katherine rolled her eyes and held her head in her hands. “Of course I vetted them,” she grumbled in frustration. “They were adamant about remaining anonymous though and I figured they could lose their job for this so we used encrypted chats and old fashion dead drops.” 

“How is that vetting?” David asked confused. 

“I have them fill out questionnaires, some are tricks and depending on their answers I know whether they’re worth the risk or not. There’s other stuff too but that’s how I knew they were a legit source in the company. Although I now realize it was because they _were_ the company,” she finished with a frustrated grumble. 

“I’m going to find them and whoop their ass. Race and Spot will help. Finch too. And Specs when he’s back from vacation,” Charlie informed her, taking a vicious bite of an apple chunk. 

Katherine blinked in surprise. “Uh no. Thanks though.” 

“You aren’t going to just go to jail. Kath, you can’t just go to jail,” Jack’s eyes had gotten wide as he spoke. 

“I have no intention of going to jail. I’m going to go to work and talk to Denton and the paper’s lawyers and see what I do next,” she shrugged. “I’m in over my head and the evidence against me is pretty damning.” 

“But you were framed,” David said. 

“I know,” she replied. 

“So what I’m hearing,” Charlie’s face split into a grin as he tried to pull their friends’ thoughts back from the worst case scenario. Something Kath just no longer had the energy to do. “What it is that I gather, is that lawyers first and if that doesn’t work we’re busting you out.” 

Kath snorted as Jack and David laughed, relaxing back into the booth. “Yes. Because this is an Oceans movie.” 

“Obviously,” Charlie smirked. “And I think this is more Leverage.” 

Jack’s eyebrows raised as he gave Charlie a goofy grin and touched his index finger to the tip of his nose a couple times before pointing back at Charlie. Kath just rolled her eyes at the antics while David laughed. 

After putting some food in her stomach and destressing with some of her boys, Kath headed home to finally shower and throw on some work clothes. By the time she walked into the office she was almost three hours late. Darcy actually stood up at his desk when he saw her step off the elevator. 

“Katherine!” he called across the bullpen. Something that phased absolutely none of their colleagues by this point. She rolled her eyes but waved as she made her way over to their desks. “Denton said you called and that you were coming in late but never said why. I was starting to get worried. I was just about to call you.” Darcy said in a rush once she got closer. 

“Just a night in a holding cell, had to go home and eat before I could come in,” Katherine said. She shrugged nonchalantly and dropped her stuff onto her desk. 

After a few seconds and still no response from Darcy, Kath glanced up to see him staring at her in open mouth shock. She raised an eyebrow as Darcy blinked at her. 

“You... Kath. Why didn’t you call me?” He asked. Darcy’s eyebrows furrowed with hurt and Katherine felt a stab of guilt. 

She let herself sink into her chair. “I’m sorry, Darce. I didn’t want to worry you so I called Jack and by the time I got released I was just flustered and frustrated and pissed and exhausted. I totally spaced on keeping you in the loop. Honestly I didn’t even tell Sarah until David asked and I only saw him and Charlie cause Jack made me go to breakfast with them.” 

Darcy frowned and crossed the space between them to wrap her in a hug. Planting a kiss on her freshly washed curls. “Care to share?” 

“Someone - not someone cause I’m pretty positive it’s the company I’ve been investigating - framed me for corporate espionage,” she muttered. 

“Well crap. That’s serious. Like really serious Kath,” Darcy said as he pulled back to look at her. “You need to call your dad and get his lawyers. Like now.” 

“I’m _not_ calling my father.” Kath turned to shoot Darcy a dirty look. “Denton and I have an appointment with legal in a few.”

Darcy dropped his arms from around her shoulders, throwing up his hands in defense. “I’m just saying, he’s got the equivalent of an Oscar winning legal team and you might need it. This isn’t a protest and you’re no longer a college student. The stakes are higher.” 

Katherine deflated. “Yeah, I know. But can’t he be a last resort?” 

“As long as you don’t ignore those resources out of spite,” Darcy raised an eyebrow pointedly. Katherine held out her pinky to him. With a small smile Darcy linked his own. He bent down to give her one last hug before heading back to his own desk. 

Katherine started gathering her notes and emails regarding the story as the minutes ticked closer to the meeting. She was nervous, last night she’d been furious and this morning exhausted but now only her nerves seemed to be left. What if they couldn’t get her out of this? She would be going to jail for a lot longer than a night, likely lose her job, and be blacklisted as a journalist. More importantly, her story would never get published and all those people who were counting on her to help them - and more - would be let down. Katherine would have failed them. She can’t even think about that concept without her chest tightening and her eyes threatening to water. With one last deep breathe Katherine rose from her desk and marched towards Denton’s office. 

In the end it was her extensive notes that saved her. Katherine had screenshots of her conversations with the source that had burned her, all proving that she was invited to the company and given the access. More importantly, it showed that the file she was downloading was for her story and not to steal any proprietary code. By the time her hearing rolled around _The Sun’s_ legal team had a solid case in her defense and she never needed to even call her dad. She’d also had about twenty guys all willing to be her bodyguards the entire time leading up to it because, as Spot said, “We know you can hold your own, Pulitzer. We’re just pissed someone would even try to mess with you.” So good things can come out of a night in jail; like a free breakfast and a reminder that she has some really incredible friends. And a story well done with justice served.


End file.
